


Match Days

by romana03



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Xiomara Hooch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-13
Updated: 2003-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-08 18:05:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12870090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romana03/pseuds/romana03
Summary: Xiomara Hooch, Holyhead Harpies Chaser, has a devoted fan.





	Match Days

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before "Rolanda"was a thing.

On a match day, the pubs near the ground filled up early and only emptied for however long it took for the snitch to be caught. For most of the matches (home and away) this season, her schedule had been the same whether she had anyone to go with or not: pub, match and then pub again, nursing a gillywater and watching the door. She was getting to know the other regulars now. Those whose season tickets placed them near her in the stands and those who could be found in the pub afterwards. It was a small place, sparsely furnished. When empty, there was little to recommend it. It was tatty and grimy. Even when it was full and everyone was celebrating a win, it could be an unpleasant place until they got used to you.

She hadn't gone there afterwards the first few times. Blink and you'd miss it, it was that small. Besides, it did look rather unsavoury. Then, one of the blokes seated behind her had introduced himself as Dave and asked if she fancied going for a drink after the game. He was small and round and bald, but friendly looking. She had been about to decline, mentally berating herself for becoming so noticeable, here week after week, alone. Dave had grinned.

"No hassle, love, honest," he'd said. "Just thought you might enjoy the little place round the corner. Not seen you in there, see. More often than not, the girls," he nodded at the pitch, "pop in there after the match."

And that had been it. She'd been there before and after every match from then on. There were three distinct groups in the pub. The fans who would be there whatever; they lived locally and drank in there all the time anyway. Those like her who were there after every match and would probably have been elsewhere were it not for the team visiting. Then there were the others, there for the first and usually only time, not really sure of their welcome in such a 'local' pub but excited at the possibility of meeting the Harpies.

She had been uncomfortable during her first visit, although being with Dave and his friends had given her that bit more acceptance from the regulars. She had chatted to them nervously, trying not to be obviously watching the door. Nowadays, she didn't bother. She'd sit in her usual place where she had a clear view and watch the entrance - sometimes chatting to the others, sometimes just passing the time guessing which of the blonde, twittering flock Hooch would leave with this time.

Hooch never came in alone. She was always with at least one of the others. Usually Iris Baulch was with her, Hooch hanging onto her arm, both of them laughing. She laughed a lot. Once they were in the pub, they were always swamped. The regulars looked down on this type of behaviour, as she had learned in her first visit, not that she would have been one of those to force herself on someone just because they were famous. And she...admired them. Desperately. She didn't want to be one of them, not really, but oh, how she envied the girls who were all over the Chaser. Touching her (and no doubt giggling and showing off about how close to her they had got afterwards), getting her autograph, speaking to her, making her laugh. She thought that she envied the ones that made her laugh most of all. She looked so wonderfully alive when she laughed. As though there was no need to worry about anything, ever again.

Baulch would usually vanish quite quickly with some tough, muscular looking young man or other. Often she would have picked him up before they got through the door. Hooch would usually stay longer, taking her time before she and one of the girls would leave. Minerva was older than the woman she watched and a great deal older than the girls that pressed around her whenever she entered the bar. She told herself this quite frequently. She doubted some of the girls she had watched Hooch leave with were old enough to be in the pub in the first place. She had tried to convince herself that she was content just to see her. Content to watch her fly and to see her afterwards, however briefly, even if it was from a distance. Minerva had never said a word to her.

Until the week that Hooch and Baulch had come in and instead of settling herself comfortably in the middle of a group of excited fans, Hooch had had a word with Morgan the Bar and then, carrying two glasses, approached the corner where Minerva was sitting.

"Hello," she'd said, with a faint smile. "Gillywater, right? That's what Morgan said, anyway." She had sat down without waiting to be asked. She was a Harpy. Who in here would not want one of the Harpies to join them? When she had imagined talking to Hooch for the first time (something she had pictured often) she had usually thought it would be awkward. She had discovered that Hooch was easy to talk to though; opening up far more easily than Minerva, relaxed and unconsciously friendly. She had asked Minerva to call her Mara and talked about how cold it had been out on the pitch and how well the game had gone. She had asked about Minerva and Minerva had told her about her new job at Hogwarts. Despite her companion's friendliness, Minerva's natural reticence had made it difficult for her to indulge in pointless small talk. Hooch hadn't pressed her, seemingly happy to talk about anything. Even though she had mentioned noticing Minerva here, always alone, had said that she had noticed Minerva watching her, she managed to do it in such a way that Minerva wasn't embarrassed. After a while, the usual gang had descended on Hooch and spirited her away but not before she had asked Minerva to get her in a firewhisky after the next game.

They had fallen easily into a routine. Hooch would come in and have a couple of drinks with Minerva after the match, interested in what Minerva was up to but never pressing for more than Minerva seemed happy to say. Minerva was quite surprised by how interested in staff room politics and misbehaving students Hooch had seemed. In return, Minerva would hear all the latest gossip from the dressing rooms or about Mara's landlord's latest attempts to get her into bed or just whatever happened to be on Mara's mind that day. It became more and more difficult for Minerva to say goodbye cheerfully and watch as Mara left with yet another girl on her arm.

Thoughts of Mara and those girls filled her dreams. Her daydreams, however, were more pleasant, even if she felt guilty for imagining that it was Mara's hands that brought her pleasure as she lay alone in her bed. When she sat with her in the pub, she kept catching herself watching Mara's lips, desperate to lean forward and kiss them. She knew the touch of those lips in her imagination but she burned for it to be real.

Not long after their first conversation, she had arrived at the Harpies ground and discovered that Mara had left her a ticket for the manager's box on the gate. There was a note too, explaining that Mara wanted to know where she was in the crowd, even if she probably wouldn't be able to pick her out. Minerva had kept that note. It showed that Mara had thought of her, even if it wasn't her that would be leaving with Mara later on. In the pub after that match, Mara had explained that it was an ongoing arrangement. She had said that she liked knowing that Minerva was there, watching her. Minerva wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. In her bleaker moments, when she awoke at four in the morning, a picture of Mara and someone else still in her mind from a heated dream, she felt more like a mascot than a friend. But while she was there at the ground, rooting for Hooch, shouting for her when she scored, she felt special. She was the one that Mara wanted to be able to pinpoint in the crowd. None of the others were there.

All too soon, it was the last match of the season. Minerva was melancholy as she waited for Mara in the bar. There would be months now when she wouldn't watch Hooch play. Wouldn't have their conversations to look forward to. She'd got a firewhisky ready for Mara and sat staring at it silently, hardly even acknowledging the greetings of the people she had come to know over the past few months. The mood in the pub had been jubilant. It had been a good season and a good match but Minerva didn't want her time with Hooch to end. What there had been of it. Hooch had entered, in high spirits as usual, and joined Minerva in her corner. For the first time that evening Minerva had smiled. Hooch had talked about her hopes to play internationally and about the past season. Minerva had added little to Mara's chatter, trying to fix her in her mind, to make the most of every last moment with her before she left. With someone else. Again. Iris had joined them and slapped Hooch heartily on the back.

"Coming to the party, ladies?" she had asked, her voice booming as always.

Hooch had declined, explaining to Minerva that there was an end of season party but that she had other plans. Minerva had smiled and wondered which of the gaggle of girls hovering not far away Hooch had plans for. She had looked at them speculatively while Iris laughed raucously and told Hooch about what the team had planned for the evening. Hooch had declined again and Iris had left, muttering about spoilsports and people old before their time.

"Knut for them," Mara had said after a moment. Minerva had still been gazing distractedly over Mara's shoulder. "You've been awfully quiet this evening."

A faint tinge of pink had touched the centre of Minerva's cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she had replied quietly but hadn't explained.

They had sat in silence. Minerva felt the urge to say something, anything, as long as she said it straight away. She didn't want Mara to be left with the image of her as sullen and morose when she wouldn't see her for so long. She didn't want to drive her away with someone else any earlier than necessary. She wanted Mara to stay with her for as long as possible but her mind was blank. It had been Mara that had eventually broken the silence.

"Come home with me," she had said simply.

The pinkness had returned to Minerva's cheeks.

"What?"

"Come home with me."

Minerva had felt Mara's hand cover her own. There had been another moment of silence in which Minerva had stared uncomprehendingly first at Mara's smile and then at their hands lying now intertwined on the table.

"Unless..." Mara had said uncertainly, taking her hand away.

"No," Minerva had said quickly. "I mean yes, I'd like that."

And so, for the first time, it had been her on Hooch's arm when she had left the pub.

The first time she had felt Mara come had been better than anything she had imagined. It had quite taken Minerva's breath away. What had been left of it at that point. She had been pressed close against Mara's side, leaning over her, Mara's face pressed against her throat. Mara had been clutching at her tightly and mumbling against her skin, her moans eventually almost sobs as Minerva's fingers moved insistently. The sight of Mara's taught muscles jumping to her touch had been almost unbearable, twisting her own arousal hot and tight inside of her.

And now, her hands were in soft hair. That had seemed incongruous at first; it looked so wild and wiry and spiky - hair to match the younger woman's public persona. Minerva was quiet, almost afraid that if she let go of all that she was feeling, she would discover that this wasn't real. That she wasn't here. That she couldn't really feel Mara's tongue touching her as she had fervently hoped that one day it might. She looked down, daring it not to be true. Yellow eyes met her own. She could tell that if she weren't busy, Mara would be grinning. Minerva's eyes closed and her head fell back onto the pillow. She cried out as her body tensed and quivered as she came with Mara's mouth against her sex and Mara's fingers deep inside her. At last.


End file.
